The Wolf and The Healer
by CobaltAC
Summary: The galaxy is a dangerous place. Even more so for the N7s. So Katara worries for Sokka's safety. When the healer's brother returns from the Terminus Systems with a bullet wound in his chest, they are reminded why they look out for each other. And why they sometimes do more than that.


_For a friend._

 **]|[**

 _Sundown on Ferris Fields._

Once a peaceful human colony smack in the middle of the lawless Terminus Systems. It was an agricultural world. No real wealth, no eezo, no nothing. Just a ton of corn.

Now?

Fire. Rubble. Death.

A pirate attack. Or perhaps it was slavers. It didn't matter which.

To Sokka, the invaders died all the same.

Running, weaving through the rubble, ducking through bombed out buildings on the outskirts of the population center. The N7's body ached, a throbbing deep in his muscles and bones. The man was tired.

But he wasn't dead yet. Not when there were batarians to kill.

 _Goddamn squints…_

He came upon two of them as he rounded a corner. They noticed each other almost immediately, his two eyes locking with their eight. Sokka reacted faster. One of the aliens gave a shout as the human brought his rifle up and fired. The gun roared. Two bursts gave Sokka two dead batarians. A good trade.

Their dark red blood came spilling out onto the road. Sokka frowned.

 _Fuckers… They'll all die screaming!_

Angry. Alone. Actively looking for a fight. A volatile combination. Sokka new his sister would not approve.

Katara would probably smack him upside the head – among other things – for getting separated from his squad. He could deal with that.

She would likely call him a moron for losing his comm. tech. He deal with her lectures, too.

But she would most definitely kill him if he died out here, in the ass-end of space. He could not deal with that.

Ugly, evil aliens were easy. Leaving his dear sister all alone in a big, cruel galaxy was not.

His heavy armor was beginning to feel uncomfortable, his sweat making his skin stick to the under-suit. Bulky and safe, no doubt, but military equipment was not known for being user-friendly. He could feel the more sensitive areas of his body start to chafe as he ran.

 _Deal with it, Sokka. Bury your discomfort. Kill the invaders, stay alive, and go home. Focus._

N7 operatives lived for situations like this. Limited resources, greater number of enemy combatants, dangerous locale. They yearned for the challenge, the greater the better. And Sokka would be lying if he denied enjoying at least some of it.

The young warrior gripped his weapon tight and kept moving. He rounded another corner.

More batarians. _A lot_ more. Too many to shoot down all at once.

One of them saw him. It cried out, pointing. The rest turned, a hundred eyes falling on Sokka.

 _Oh, **damn.**_

Then they started shooting.

 **]|[**

 _Day cycle on the Citadel._

The Presidium was peaceful, idyllic.

The Wards were the opposite. Bustling. Busy. Crowded. And Noisy.

Katara preferred the Wards. She could never really feel at home without people. She adored them, the crowds, the wide array of characters that she would meet during her shift at the hospital. She didn't adore the occasionally grisly sights that came with working in medicine, but it was a trade-off.

Work with something you know, get a job someplace nice, find a way to deal with the shortcomings, live well.

And worry day and night about an idiot brother who decided to enlist and fight ugly aliens half a galaxy away. The young woman hated worrying.

After their parents died, Sokka and Katara were all alone in the galaxy. They only had each other and a handful of friends. For a few weeks, Katara didn't think they'd make it through college, let alone the rest of their lives. But she remained optimistic, if only for her brother. And Sokka himself toned down his snark and sarcasm. They worked through it together.

And now they were both truly alone. She on the Citadel, Sokka wherever the Alliance sent him. He was an N7 now, Katara remembered, the kind of soldier that got sent to the most dangerous places, on the deadliest missions. She tried not to think about it.

So, she threw herself into her work.

A biotic healer. Able to use mass effect fields to apply life-saving drugs to specific areas of the body. It was a fairly new concept, thought up by the salarians, but it was still more accurate than using a syringe and waiting for the medicine to take effect.

Her most recent patient was an asari. Nalya Sorrei. Tall, blue, drop-dead gorgeous. Busty, leggy, and a whole bunch of other things that would doubtlessly send many tongues wagging wherever she went. Injured in a failed mugging attempt in the lower wards. Turian hood-rat with a talon knife.

That fateful evening ended with him losing the knife and gaining a broken mandible, courtesy of Nalya's boyfriend. Human, Caucasian, member of C-SEC armored division (Citadel equivalent of SWAT), taller than most turians, intimidating even to some krogan. But he was a sweetheart. Otherwise, Nalya wouldn't have bothered with him. His name was Jason. And he was starting to get on Katara's nerves.

He meant well, she knew. He was worried about his girlfriend and a new kind of biotic treatment wasn't exactly something to inspire confidence. But Katara was a professional and his hovering was not helping her do her job.

So she had him wait in the lobby.

"Is he going to be alright?" Katara asked her patient.

Nalya looked up at her from the bed, the asari remaining patiently still as the human worked on her. The biotic treatment was painless, so there was no need for anesthetics.

"He'll be fine. He just worries. Asari aren't exactly fighters, aside from our Commandoes. And most of us don't bother to hone our biotic abilities. So, when I, the oh-so delicate flower, goes out and about all by my lonesome in the dark pits of the wards, Jay fears the worst."

"You could take some self-defense classes. I know a few places around that can help you with that."

Nalya shook her head. "Maybe someday I'll learn how to turn thugs into paste. But I'm only 142. I've got centuries to become a biotic goddess. Right now I'm happy just being Jason's woman. Asari. You get the idea, right? Sometimes a partner is all you need."

Katara knew that feeling all too well. It was a damn shame that her supposed partner decided to leave her alone on the Citadel.

" _Patriotic duty", my round, perky ass! He enlisted on a whim, all because of Mindoir! Jumping the gun like always, diving into the fire buck naked..._

Katara frowned as she worked.

 _When are you coming home, Sokka?_

The procedure went by without a hitch. Nalya would have to return for a follow-up, but all in all it appeared that the asari would make a full recovery. The wound would scar, but with today's advances in medicine it would be next to unnoticeable.

Katara walked her patient to the lobby, where her beast of a boyfriend waited for her. _Soft of heart, breaker of jaws._

The interspecies pair walked off, Nalya draped off the human's shoulder like some lovesick girl.

 _Even the asari have their lovesick girls._

Katara was about to return to work, when her omni-tool beeped. A small flashing green light. That meant a new message.

She flipped open the holo-projection. An audio file, the omni-tool told her.

A new message, indeed… _From Sokka!_

Katara could not have opened it fast enough… though she would later wonder if that was such a good idea.

" _Hey, sis. Been a while since I last called. By the time you get this, the Tokyo should be stuck in long range FTL. A good thing I got it out with the last data burst._

 _So, I've got good news and bad news._

 _Good news is: I'm headed home. Got a couple weeks of leave and I'll be headed for the Citadel first thing when the Tokyo makes dry-dock._

 _Bad news is: I sort of got myself shot. But I'll just explain that when I see you…"_

 **]|[**

The transport shuttle had been crowded. Sokka new not to expect first class accommodations, even on an N7 salary, though he would have preferred more humans or asari. There were far too many turians on his ride. Not that he hated turians, but they were so pointy! No room for him to wiggle around without getting poked by a fringe or wayward leg spur. There was also the single, odd krogan, a large male dressed in casual clothing, wearing a dark sweater with a black cap draped over his crest.

 _A krogan beatnik? You see something new every day…_

The young man had his reservations about seeing his dear sister again. On the one hand, he hadn't seen her for almost a year. It would definitely be nice to be in the company of family again. But on the other hand… He had told her about his injury through an email. At least, he believed, she wouldn't fret over one of those clinical, soulless Alliance notifications, wondering if he was even okay enough to talk with her himself. But that only meant that Katara had been stewing over him getting shot for almost a week.

A whole week of fuming about her idiot brother going off half-cocked and getting filled with metal shavings. The slap that would undoubtedly be waiting for him… Sokka was not exactly looking forward to it.

The shuttle landed at the travel center. The vessel lurched as the mass effect fields dissipated, allowing the Citadel's artificial gravity to take over. The passengers began to file out, most of them giving the krogan a wide berth. When the shuttle was half-empty, Sokka himself rose from his seat, slinging his bag over his shoulder – his good one. The other was still a bit sore.

Outside, his sister would be waiting for him in the crowd.

 _Time to face the music._

He found her quickly enough. She was the same as when he had left her. Dark brown hair tied back into a single, long braid. Light blue hoodie, a bit worn from use, sleeves rolled up to reveal tribal tattoos up her left arm. Black, baggy sweatpants that were still right around her wide hips.

She had her arms crossed, her hips cocked to the side. She was glaring frozen daggers at him, her nails visibly digging into her arms.

 _Yep. She's pissed._

It was a long walk from the shuttle to the other side of the lobby. Each step brought him closer to the only family he had left, but the closer he got, the angrier Katara seemed to grow. Her scowl tightened into a full-on grimace, as if the very sight of him was an affront to her vision. By the time he was halfway there, Sokka's dear sister looked about ready to blow.

And yet the young man remained happy, positive. His grin never faded even as he came face to face with the living personification of fury.

He stepped before her, his grin breaking into a large, toothy smile. He let his bag slip off his good shoulder, thumping down onto the clear tile floor.

"Hey, sis," He greeted, his voice warm and adoring. "You miss me?"

She slapped him.

Katara had a hell of an arm, Sokka had to give her that. He didn't know where she put the muscle. It had to have been the biotic training.

His cheek stung. While Sokka believed he may have deserved that, he would have much preferred their inevitable argument to have been private. He could feel the eyes of many a passersby on the two of them.

He did his best to ignore them.

" _Yow,_ " He hissed, rubbing the afflicted side of his face. "Guess I should have started with the apology. It's not too late for that, right? Sorry about getting shot. It wasn't fun for me."

Sokka fully expected another slap for being a wise-ass.

Instead he found himself pulled into his sister's arms. She was hugging him.

" _Jerk,_ " She sniffled into his chest. He couldn't believe that there was once a time when they were the same height.

 _Oh. Well, now I feel like a prick._

"You… Ah… You wanna grab a bite to eat, Kat?" He managed to ask, wrapping his arms around her. "I was stuck on a shuttle for the last couple hours. You know that's like… centuries in stomach-time, right?"

He heard her chuckle. It was a start.

 **]|[**

"How's your arm?"

They had gone back to her place. Living by herself was easy enough when Katara didn't have any roommates to deal with. She had the living space all to herself. But with Sokka back, the young biotic new the apartment would soon feel crowded.

 _Just like in college…_

"Better. I had some time to heal on the way back and the medi-gel stopped any infection cold. I should be alright," Sokka glanced around, eyeing up her quaint home. He came upon the decorative art she had put up on the living room walls. "Never took you for the deep, sophisticated type, Kat."

From the way he seemed to tense, Katara knew he could feel her glare burning into his back.

"Well, someone in this family has to have an appreciation for culture. We can't all be meatheads, can we?"

Sokka made a noise of mock outrage, letting his bag slip off his good shoulder and onto the floor. "Well I never! I'll have you know that this meathead is far more cultured than you give him credit for. In fact, I've been spending the last few months experiencing the cultural enrichment of batarian slavers!"

Katara rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself.

Sokka plopped himself down on her couch, letting out a groan as he sank into the soft cushions. The look on his face could not be mistaken for anything but relief.

"Military doesn't have anything this soft. It's like sitting on a cloud," He sighed.

Katara took a moment to just look at him. Her brother was home now. He wasn't out, halfway across the galaxy on some murky pirate world. He was _here_ , safe, away from war and bullets and death. He was here and he was alive.

But if the bullet had landed a few inches to the left, he wouldn't be.

And that thought was terrifying.

Katara sat down on a recliner chair, opposite her brother.

"How could you be so reckless?" She whispered.

Sokka raised a brow, his content smile quickly dropping into a frown. He looked confused.

"Eh?"

"How could you go and do something like that? Getting shot and sending me a message as if nothing happened? Do you have any idea how scared I was for you?"

Sokka let loose a sigh. "Kat, I thought we had gone over this. I thought it would be better if you heard about it from me and not some Alliance notification. At least if I sent you the message you'd know that I was A-Okay."

"Getting shot in the shoulder is not 'A-Okay', Sokka!"

"Upper chest, actually. My shields and armor slowed bullet down considerably. All that I ended up with was a metal shaving sitting in my pectoral muscle. Easy fix."

Katara was back to glaring, this time with tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

"You don't get it, Sokka! It may not seem like a big deal to you, big brave N7 running around getting shot up like in the vids. But to me, back here on the Citadel? All I do is worry!"

Sokka stood, matching his sister's intense gaze. "That's why I make the jokes in the first place! So you _don't_ worry! I'm trying to get you to relax, Kat. Everything is fine, see? I'm home, I'm perfectly fine. It's not like a couple of squint pirates are going to bring down an N7."

"If they had shot you just a little bit to the left-."

"But they didn't! That's my point! They're aim was shit! You wanna know why? Because they're undisciplined thugs without an ounce of the training I've got! How exactly do you want me to act, Kat? You want me to tell you how scared I was? How it was like to stare down twenty batarians?"

Kat couldn't bear to listen any longer. She turned away, moving swiftly towards her room.

"Do whatever you want!" She cried back.

She slammed the door behind her.

 **]|[**

Sokka followed his sister's advice. Arguments with family always stressed him out. And when he was stressed out, he felt like drinking.

The closest bar was a delightfully short distance away from Katara's apartment building.

It was one of those multi-cultural places that served all species, both levos and dextros. Sokka wasn't one to surround himself with aliens, but a beer was a beer. And most of the other patrons were asari, so it wasn't like he was forced to rub elbows with turians. The N7 could deal with it.

Hell, maybe he would even get lucky. Find a pretty blue alien and fuck her in the alley behind the bar. That's what meatheads did, right?

First beer down.

The asari grew prettier, more enticing. The turians and krogan grew uglier, more numerous. The single volus grew larger, more entertaining.

Second beer.

Sokka found himself sitting amidst a group of salarians. They told him that drunk humans were always fun to watch. The N7 took offense to that. It took more than just two beers to get him drunk.

They joked and laughed, the human soldier and his new alien friends.

Third beer.

The rumbling in his stomach told Sokka that he was hungry. He frowned. He and Katara were supposed to get something to eat. And then they had their little argument.

Fourth beer.

The world seemed tilt and shake. People became blurs, ghosts moving around him. Everything seemed like a good idea.

Sokka didn't know how he ended up being thrown across the room. He did know that the asshole who threw him was going to learn a thing or two about messing with an N7 – drunk or not.

The turians – two of them – were cursing him out. Something, something, get your filthy human hands off of my mate. Sokka could only assume they were angry. Turians always looked angry.

Sokka slurred something back. Something, something, not my fault she was groping little old me.

The turians charged him.

Adrenaline sobered him up a bit. Hot-blooded and eager for a fight, Sokka charged them right back. But he was still fighting drunk. So he had that going against him.

It was some time later that C-Sec came bursting into the bar, human and turian officers pulling the rowdy patrons off of each other.

Sokka may have been more than a little drunk, but he was able to remember that being arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct would not do well for his military career. The young human slipped away from the chaos, stumbling through the bar's back door into a deserted, grimy back alley.

 _Hell of a way to spend your first night back home, Sokka… You moron._

Soon enough, the drunk-off-his-ass N7 found his way back to the main streets. They were bustling with a variety of species as always, a real galactic zoo. Sokka decided that he was not going to waste his time trying to navigate that particular nightmare. So he found a nice, empty bench.

He plopped himself down, his eyelids already feeling quite heavy.

 _Why can't things be like they were in college? Right… college… Kat liked college…_

Sokka's eyes fluttered shut.

 **]|[**

 _College._

 _Eight years ago._

It was the best time of Sokka's life.

He had it all. Good grades. Star rugby player privileges. Nights on the town with his boys.

…And those special nights spent with his sister.

Like tonight.

Their rugby team had just won a particularly close game, thanks in large part to Sokka himself. Katara was conducting her sisterly duties and rewarding the star player accordingly.

The beautiful young med student was on her hands and knees, her brother behind her, his hands gripping her by her sumptuous hips. He was fucking her, driving his manhood deep and making his sister moan like some wanton asari whore. Sokka was an endowed young man, possessing enviable girth as well as length. He was doling out punishment just as much as pleasure.

And from the sounds of things, Katara was loving every moment of it. She was tight, wet, warm, and taking her brother's cock like a champion. Every thrust nestled him deep inside her, every inch of his length stuffed in her tight cunt. It was a mesmerizing sight to Sokka, watching his manhood sink into such a beautiful pussy, watching Katara's delicious brown ass shake and jiggle as he pounded her into the mattress.

This was not the first time Sokka fucked his sister. That had started way back in high school after the death of their mother. Judging from the sounds he was drawing from Katara's throat, this would not be the last time either.

Were their secret trysts wrong? Unethical? Sick and disgusting?

Maybe.

The siblings made sure to keep their special relationship a closely guarded secret. No one could find out about them.

But that didn't mean they were going to stop anytime soon. Not when it felt so good. Not when it felt like they were made for each other.

Sokka bottomed out inside Katara, sinking down to the hilt. She gasped, making fists in the bedsheets. Throwing a heated look over her shoulder, she laughed breathlessly. Her dark hair clung to her sweaty skin, lustful eyes burning into her brother.

"Perfect fit," She giggled, thrusting back against him. Sokka fought back a groan, fingers digging into the soft flesh of Katara's hips. He pulled back some and gave a small, sharp thrust, making her whimper.  
Then he did it again. And again.

Small thrusts turned to bigger thrusts and soon enough he was fucking her again. _Really_ fucking her.

"Are you going to cum?" She asked him, hissing as he slapped her ass.

"Going soon," Sokka grunted, picking up the pace, driving fast and hard into the girl beneath him.

" _Inside,_ " She gasped, raising her ass into her brother's relentless assault. "Cum _inside!_ "

Sokka was not one to leave a lady wanting.

They came together, or close enough. She went first, wailing into the mattress, drenching her brother's thick cock with her pleasure, dripping down onto his balls. He followed soon after, his cock throbbing within the tight confines of her cunt, twitching as it sent stream after stream of hot seed deep into her womb.

Sokka thrust a few more times, grunting, before slipping out and collapsing on the bed beside his sister.

For a while, they both lay there, catching their breath.

Minutes passed and Sokka was almost falling asleep. Then Katara rolled over to face him. She smiled brightly, wide awake, as if she hadn't just gone through a personalized Sokka power-fuck. She kissed him, giggling.

"Aren't you just the handsome-est fuck machine?" She cooed, kissing him on the nose before rolling back out of bed. Fishing her panties from the floor, she began to get dressed.

Sokka stared, incredulous.

"You're not even tired?"

"I'm a med student, Sokka. I'm not allowed to be tired. Not like you jock types." She ribbed him, smiling.

"Oh, ha ha,"

"Seriously though, you should rest up. Next week is another big game. Coaches are probably going to work you hard to get ready for it."

"I'd rather have you help me with some physical therapy, sis." Sokka teased, waggling his eyebrows.

Katara scoffed, waving dismissively at him. Then she got a look in her eye. A devious look. She turned towards Sokka as she pulled one of his shirts over her large breasts, eyeing him like a sabrecat eyes its prey.

"Tell you what, bro. If you practice hard and win next week's game, I'll give you something _extra_ special for our victory celebration." She purred, biting her lip.

" _Extra_ special?" Sokka repeated, smirking. "And what do you mean by that, exactly?"

"It's a surprise…"

"What? Is it anal?"

Katara said nothing, only smiling down at her brother on the bed. Then she winked and left to go back to her room, putting an extra sway in her hips as she walked. Sokka's eyes were locked on her ass until she left the room.

Letting loose a sigh, the athlete sank back into the bed. He gave an exhausted laugh, his eyes fluttering shut.

 _This is the best time of my life…_

 **]|[**

 _Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated._

 _To all my followers, please see my profile for an explanation regarding my **very** long absence. _

_Damn it's good to be back._


End file.
